


The Mend

by HyenaInASportsBra



Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyenaInASportsBra/pseuds/HyenaInASportsBra
Summary: After a near-fatal accident, Fox and Wolf are forced to share the same space, and find some common ground.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first foray into a non-Zootopia fandom. I love the StarFox mythos, and have been wanting to do this for a while. This is actually the opening chapter for a much longer narrative about Wolf and Fox's relationship, but i don't know if i'll ever tell the rest of the story. In any case, this first chunk makes for a nice arc.
> 
> I have been selective about what Star Fox lore i adhere to for my own purposes. I haven't played every game, and i've only read about the characters involved here. What i've written might clash with some canon, so be prepared if you're a stickler for that. 
> 
> Edit: fixed the formatting. Sorry!
> 
> Thanks again!

The last thing Wolf remembered before his mind stretched into black nothingness was the shrieking alarm of his damaged Wolfen control panel, Panther's face on the fuzzy screen, the smell of coolant leaking into the cockpit, and the rush of heat through his fur as the second power core exploded. His limbs went numb, and he couldn't hear his own voice cursing into his radio as he faded into darkness.

There were flashes. Lights, mostly, some bright and wavy, sickening, some bursts of color. Faces emerged; Panther's scarred muzzle, Leon's pointed nose, and a few others he barely recognized. A smatter of voices, nothing intelligible. He resigned himself to death with a sigh.

Then, annoyance.

His ear twitched. The sound of plastic scraping together along with a gross slurp made his nose wrinkle. He forced his eyelids open.

Well, eyelid. The lack of depth perception informed him his visual prosthetic had been removed. Probably for the best. At least his head felt lighter. Or maybe that was the drugs being pumped into his veins.

As his eye adjusted, he saw streams of IVs around him, needles beneath his fur, the piercing white light of a hospital room, and a stack of humming medical equipment nearby. A clean white sheet lay over him, his left arm bound in a brace, the skin beneath his fur discolored by extensive bruising. He couldn't feel his fingers or toes. He took a deep breath, his mouth dry as a bone. 

He was alive. Barely.

He looked to his right. More medical equipment, a sink, and a chair stacked with clean towels and a bedpan. Hospital room. Corneria? No, he'd been banned from those borders years ago. Or had those restrictions been lifted? He shook his aching head, memories fuzzing together. He licked his mouth. Still dry.

Titania. They'd been above Titania's orbit, chasing a bounty. They were ambushed, and then... something. Wolf's head hurt again. It was starting to make him mad. 

The sound of plastic scraping together brought him back to the present. He glanced around, rolling his head over to the left. Someone sat in a second bed several feet away, ears bandaged, a brace around his middle, a long IV connected to his arm, its needle buried under pale, orange fur. He was eating a cup of bright green gelatin, using a plastic hospital spoon to scrape out the last bits of goop. He turned to Wolf, sticking the spoon in his mouth.

“Hey,” said Fox McCloud.

Wolf opened his mouth, but only a dry, hacking cough came out. Fox pointed at a large, yellow cup of water equipped with a floppy straw next to his bed. He grabbed it and slurped the water down, the IV bags swinging from the sudden motion. 

“The hell are you doing here?” he finally croaked.

“Almost died, duh.” Fox tapped the side of his bandaged head. “You, too, dummy.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Wolf grunted. “The hell am I?”

“Titania Station Twelve, in low orbit around the planet.” Fox answered, tossing the empty gelatin cup at the trash can. He snapped his fingers as it bounced off the rim and across the floor. “I think I'm out of gelatin.”

“Didn't know there was a hospital aboard,” Wolf hissed as he attempted to lift himself off the bed. He failed, his legs and torso heavy.

“Apparently so.” Fox was still looking around, checking under his sheet. “Damn.”

“The hell happened?”

“You don't pay attention much, do you?”

“I'm gonna kill you, McCloud,” Wolf growled, turning his good eye on him.

“Classic,” Fox quipped, and eased himself back on the bed.

“Where's my team?” Wolf demanded.

“You really don't remember?” Fox turned to him, his unbandaged ear flopped over.

“If I did, I wouldn't be asking you,” Wolf growled again, and held his head, vision swimming. The sound of his own voice gave him a headache.

“Good point,” Fox conceded. “We were after the same thing. Fugitive, last sighted on Titania. You were after the bounty money; we were gonna turn her in to the authorities. Words were... exchanged.” Fox sighed. “Before we could settle it, the action above the planet triggered one of Andross' old missile systems buried on Titania. Both teams got caught off-guard. We got hit.”

“Damn.” Wolf closed his eyes, some of his memories returning at Fox's recounting. “And the target?”

Fox shrugged.

“Great,” Wolf spat. He gripped the rails of the bed and gave them a push, testing them. He pulled himself up, and began to slide himself out of the bed. “Thanks for the rundown, kid, but I think it's long past time for me to get the hell out of here,” he grunted, pushing himself off to the side.

“That's a bad idea,” Fox said, watching. 

“Yeah, well, get f-” Wolf's epithet was cut off by a sickening wave of pain that shot through him as his hand slipped and his bandaged ribs collided with the railing. His lower body continued to roll over, sticking him in an inescapable position as his broken body radiated with pain. He screamed.  
“You could call the nurse,” Fox offered. 

“NURSE! NUUURSE! FU-!” Wolf shrieked, coughing through the pain.

“Not like that, dummy, with the call button.”

“Where is it?!” Wolf gasped desperately.

“It's on the other side of your bed,” Fox pointed out.

“I can't reach it, dammit!” Wolf howled, hand flopping desperately behind him, several inches short of the little device attached to the bed.

“Oh, you're right,” Fox observed, and picked up his own call-button device. “I could use mine, if you want. I am out of gelatin, after all.”

“USE IT!”

“If you insist,” Fox shrugged and pushed the button.

Moments later, a short lynx in nurse's scrubs entered the room.

“What's wrong?” she asked, eyes going wide as she saw Wolf struggling.

“I'm out of gelatin,” Fox said.

“I'M DYING!” Wolf snarled, panting and groaning in pain as the nurse helped him back into the bed and applied heavy doses of painkillers. He managed a sharp glare at Fox, who was busy licking the inside of another empty gelatin cup, as he passed out again.


	2. Chapter 2

Truly, this is hell, Wolf thought as the days passed.

Bound to a bed, constantly drugged or in pain, and every waking moment was spent several feet away from the man he'd declared his burning hatred for again and again, a hate that was feeling more justified by the hour. When he wasn't pestering the nurses or eating another tray of bland hospital food, the fox was listening to some inane genre of music at a volume high enough for Wolf to catch every insipid note bleeding from the tiny earbuds in Fox's fluffy ears.

He thought his salvation had come when Panther strolled into the room, the dark fur on his neck singed but otherwise no worse for wear. Wolf noticed with some annoyance that even his boots had been polished.

“Caroso! Get me out of this godforsaken place,” he growled, his throat still sore.

“Good to see that you are feeling more like yourself, Lord O'Donnell,” The handsome cat grinned. Wolf ignored the derisive snort from the other bed in the room. “The last time I saw you, some of your insides were on your outsides.”

“Wonderful,” Wolf spat. “The crew will be happy to know that I am alive and well. Now get my things and get me to my Wolfen!”

Panther shifted a bit, looking toward the wall.

“Well, about that, Lord O'Donnell,” he began. A fresh wave of anger swept through Wolf's wracked body. “Your Wolfen... is no more. Thankfully, your emergency ejector pod worked perfectly, but the rest of your ship was obliterated. We are working diligently on a replacement which will be fully operational by the time you are back in flying shape.”

Wolf screamed internally.

“Very well,” he hissed through gritted fangs. “Take us back to Sargasso in your Wolfen.”

“I'm afraid that also will not be happening today.”

“What.”

“With all due respect, Lord O'Donnell, your injuries are... extensive. While we have the facilities to help you recover on our base, let us say that it will be somewhat... resource-draining,” Panther carefully explained. “The fine hospital here on Titania Station is state-funded and will aid your healing at no charge. To do so on our base would prove rather expensive, and after the loss of our most recent bounty... well, we are focusing on cost-cutting measures.” 

Wolf gripped the thin hospital blanket, his claws cutting holes in the fabric.

“Do not fret, Lord O'Donnell,” Panther smiled, clasping his paws together. “I have voluntarily taken over as leader of Team Star Wolf, and will manage day-to-day operations until you can return to us.”

“You're doing a great job,” Fox chimed in.

“Hello, Fox,” Panther greeted casually. “And thank you. You are looking well.”

“Gettin' better,” Fox gave a thumbs up. “Tell Krystal I said hi.”

“Certainly,” Panther nodded politely and gave a slight bow. Wolf reached for the missing pistol on his hip. “I must be getting back now. We will check in on you again soon, my Lord. Until then, au revoir.”

The sleek cat bowed and left them as Wolf barked after him, attempting to lift himself up and failing painfully once again. He settled back into the bed, seething.

“You should relax more, y'know,” Fox chirped. “Helps the healing process.”

Too angry for words, Wolf gave only an acidic glare.


	3. Chapter 3

“McCloud.”

Fox nodded his head, zoning out as he closed his eyes and listened to the beat in his earbuds. He sipped his water, letting the music take him away.

“McCloud.”

He wondered what Krystal was up to. Part of him still wished he'd handled the breakup better. But he was over it, so was she, all that was a long time ago. Panther seemed nice.

“McCloud!”

Oh, he liked this song. It always made him feel like he was in his Arwing, circling one of the faraway moons in the inner Lylat system. The purple-ish one with the ice rings was his favorite. He should plan a trip back soon.

“FOX!”

He flicked his ears in annoyance and looked to his right. Wolf's reddish eye glared at him, ears folded in agitation. He plucked out his earbuds.

“Yes, m'lord?” he chirped.

Wolf looked down towards the floor. Fox followed his gaze to see the small, rectangular device for alerting the nurses lying on the floor a few inches from his bed. He looked back to Wolf.

“Drop something?”

“Yes.”

“...did you throw it?”

“It wasn't working,” Wolf groused. 

“...so you threw it.”

“Yes.” The former pirate continued to glare at him.

“...do you want it back?”

“Yyyeeesss,” Wolf hissed between his teeth.

“Are you going to throw it again?”

“McCLOUD.”

“Oh, fine,” Fox rolled his eyes, scooped up the device, and lobbed it across the room, hitting Wolf square in the ribs. Wolf snarled a string of curses.

“You couldn't hit the broad side of Corneria, you lousy pup,” Wolf lamented, rolling to his uninjured side.

“Strong words coming from you,” Fox shot back, flopping onto his pillow.

“What.”

“I'm just saying, most of the blast holes in my hull come from Leon,” Fox patiently explained. 

Wolf seethed. He took deep breaths, gripping the device almost tight enough to break it. He could feel himself straining against the casts. For weeks he had suffered Fox's ice-cold attitude, constant quips, and that insufferable music. He imagined a thousand things he wanted to do to Fox's smug face.

His rage was mitigated by the appearance of the nurse, who adjusted the braces on his casts as requested and refilled his water jug. He stared at the wall ahead of him, doing his damnedest to ignore the fox in the room. He snorted, sipping his water, his nerves somewhat calmed, turning to him after the nurse had left them alone again.

“You know what your problem is, McCloud?” Wolf huffed. “You're a little shit. You always have been, and you're always gonna be a little shit, you know that?”

“Yeah? You think so? Is that your expert opinion?” Fox replied, idly swinging a single ear bud on his finger. 

“You are, and you act like it, too!” Wolf shot.

“Great,” Fox nodded, “Well, when the opinion of a scavenger and murderer ever amounts to anything, just let me know, and I might actually care.”

Wolf stared hard at the younger pilot. The fox just looked blankly at the wall still swinging the earbud. Wolf snorted.

“I didn't kill your dad, Fox” he said.

The earbud stopped swinging. Fox continued looking at the wall, unmoving.

“Those rumors aren't true,” Wolf continued, ignoring Fox's stoney silence. “Yeah, I was on Andross' payroll at the time. Went up against your old man myself a few times, out on the edge of the system. But I didn't have anything to do with what happened to him. I wasn't even there.” Wolf took a long sip, setting his water jug down carefully with his uninjured hand. “So get your undies out of a wad about it.”

“Do you expect me,” Fox started, an edge to his voice. “to just take your word for it?” 

“If I had done it, I would have told you, directly,” Wolf explained. “If I wanted to be known as the man who took down James McCloud, I'd have it painted on the side of my ship.”

“You can stop talking now,” Fox huffed, his jaw clenched.

“For what it's worth,” he went on, his voice lowered. “I'm sorry about it. He was done dirty, and Dengar got what he deserved.”

Fox said nothing, put his earbuds back in, and laid back down on his bed, turning his back to Wolf. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly, almost a whisper. 

They sat in silence until they both fell asleep, the lights in the hallway dimming for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Wolf attempted to sleep through the next day, but to no avail. Once again, he had to endure another mealtime with Fox, listening to the other mercenary chew through the slop the hospital called food. He tried to drown it out with his own chewing, as he was now able to hold a utensil without assistance. He only made it halfway through before he was too exhausted to sit up, and slumped back into the bed, resigned to listening to Fox eat like a child.

He glared a hole in the other pilot as the fox took to slurping the inside of the empty gelatin cup, savoring every last bit. 

“Must you do that?” Wolf grumbled. “You're acting like an animal.”

Fox gave him a funny look.

“What? Did they not teach you basic manners at your little academy?”

“That's hilarious,” Fox said flatly, licking at his spoon.

“I fail to see the comedy in having basic etiquette.”

“You, who threatened to murder me several times, lecturing me about manners.”

“And?”

Fox stared at him.

“I have always abided by the rules of engagement in our fights, McCloud; I wouldn't dare violate them.”

“What are you talking about? You came at us out of nowhere, ambushed us and tried to blow us into space dust!”

“Were you not always armed? Did I not issue the challenge beforehand? Did I ever have an unfair advantage?” Wolf retorted.

“I...” Fox blinked. “I'll be damned.”

“Agreed,” Wolf muttered.

“So, every dogfight was some elaborate duel for you?”

“Well, I wouldn't say elaborate,” Wolf rolled his eye. “But yes. I made sure every fight was as fair as possible, as a proper O'Donnell should.”

“And where did you learn these... rules of engagement?” Fox sat up, curiosity getting the better of him.

“They were an essential part of my schooling in preparation to receive the title of Lord O'Donnell, as my father before be and his father before him,” Wolf explained. “Did you think my 'Lord' status was a joke?”

“...Kinda, yeah,” Fox admitted.

Wolf snorted and turned away again. “Well, I assure you, it is not. It is a very serious position and, as such, I take it very seriously,” he said matter-of-factly, settling down in the stuffy pillow and staring at the ceiling.

“Oh. Then... congratulations...?” Fox offered, rather dumbfounded.

“Thank you,” Wolf replied.

They sat in awkward silence for several moments.

“I didn't, uh,” Fox started. “I didn't know Venom had... lords.”

“It's really more of a family title,” Wolf explained. “Though ownership of the O'Donnell estate passes to the current title-bearer. Which is me.” He pointed to himself. “Though I doubt any authority outside regional Venomian governments recognize it.”

“I guess so,” Fox said dubiously.

“Is it so strange to you, pup, that peoples outside of your Cornerain-centric world would have their own cultures? Their own structures and systems? Or did you just assume that we were all pirates and thieves?”

“No, it's not that!” Wolf defended. “I just assumed, because you're so... y'know... you, and every other Venomian has been part of your... group... that it was a Venom thing to be a pirate... kinda.”

“...it's the eye, isn't it.”

“Yeah, it's the eye.”

Wolf sighed.

“I guess the family warship in orbit over Venom doesn't help.”

“...'Family warship'?!”


	5. Chapter 5

The days had begun to blur, Wolf realized. It was difficult to tell the passage of time, unless he checked the digital clock on the wall of the hospital room. He had given up on recalling the events of the crash; everything was hidden beneath a painful haze. He was improving physically, little by little, but it was terribly slow going. He recovered mobility of his arm again, and was given a gripping device for light exercises, which he regularly abused. Focusing on the repetitive motion gave him a distraction from Fox's annoyance. Which, strangely enough, seemed to slacken as time wore on. Occasionally he'd pester Wolf with more questions about his noble status, but otherwise kept to himself. 

He was starting to resent the fox's presence less and less; he wasn't sure if he liked it.

They received a visitor one day as Wolf lay in bed, recovering from physical therapy. A scowling mass of blue feathers entered, carrying a heavy case.

“You almost don't look like garbage,” Falco quipped, and dropped the case by the bed with a heavy thud. 

“Likewise,” Fox returned with a smile, holding out a green cup. “Gelatin?”

Falco waved it away.

“The Great Fox is ship-shape, your Arwing, too; Slippy put in a lot of overtime.”

“Aw, bless that tadpole. Give him a hug for me.”

“No thanks,” Falco laughed. “Did some tweaking on your boots, too.” The bird tapped the case with his toe. Wolf raised an eyebrow. Mighty big box for a pair of boots, he thought.

“Perfect.” Fox popped the lid of the gelatin cup.

“So how much longer...” Falco trailed off as he glanced around the room and noticed, for the first time, the other occupant. He froze, his feathers instinctively fluffing, adding another inch or two to his frame. Wolf regarded him with a steely, silent glare.

“Fox- is that- are you-”

“Keep staring, finger-food,” Wolf snarled.

“Wolf, be nice,” Fox scolded. 

“Should I, uh...” Falco shifted, looking back and forth between the two mammals.

“Naw, don't sweat it, blue,” Fox assured between bites. “He can't do much with a two broken legs and a busted tail.” 

“Uh, okay,” Falco acquiesced, tail still stiff. “I'll be on stand by if... something happens,” he said cryptically. 

“I'll be just fine. Me and my roomie here are getting along swell.” He shot Wolf a smug grin, at which Wolf growled.

“Well, okay... seeya, Fox,” Falco left the room slowly, eyes trained on the injured ex-pirate laying in the hospital bed as he went.

“Featherbrains,” Wolf muttered. He glanced over at Fox and the big metal case. “Must be some fancy boots, McCloud.”

“The fanciest.” He tossed the empty cup at the trashcan, where it clattered against the pile forming there. He leaned over the side of the bed and pulled the latch, letting the lid fall open. 

Wolf blinked in confusion as two silvery limbs gleamed back at him in the fluorescent light, freshly polished and carefully placed in soft packing. He watched as Fox edged himself over to the side of the bed, and lowered the plastic rail, which had been hiding the fox's lower half. He pulled the blanket away as he sat on the edge of the bed.

It was Wolf's turn to be speechless. Fox's lower legs were missing, leaving instead a pair of strong thighs rounded off at the knee. Fox reached down and pulled the prosthetics out of the box, strapping them on one at a time. The robotic joints whirred as he made contact with them, clicking into place and responding naturally as he put the feet down and stood carefully, his tail twitching while he shook the numbness out.

“I, uh,” Wolf stumbled. 

“Thanks,” Fox chirped, testing his legs out with a few cautious steps around the room. “Impressed, O'Donnell?”

“Yes,” Wolf blurted.

“Aww, you're sweet,” Fox approached, his legs clicking, smirking down at him. “Embarrassed you got beaten by a cripple?” he asked bitingly.

“Do you think so low of me, McCloud?” Wolf snorted, rather offended. 

Fox gave him a look.

“Don't insult me. Petty discrimination like that are below an O'Donnell,” Wolf insisted.

“How noble of you,” Fox said, his sarcasm half-hearted.

“And what do you think people say about a one-eyed pilot?” Wolf stated. “Didn't always have an implant.”

Fox stared down at him, expression unreadable.

“Fair point,” he conceded. He seemed genuine, Wolf realized, which seemed to be a rarity with him. 

Fox blinked and rubbed his head, swaying a bit. He sat back on his bed, sighing as he pulled at the straps on his knees, letting his legs drop heavily to the floor. 

“Pushed it a little too hard, McCloud?” Wolf teased.

“Just tired of your smell,” Fox swiped back, easing himself on to the mattress. 

“Get used to it,” Wolf growled.

“Disgusting.”

Wolf smirked. Fox did, too.


	6. Chapter 6

“How'd ya lose 'em, anyway?” Wolf asked. Etiquette or not, there were questions that needed answering.

“Accident,” Fox hardly seemed ruffled by the question. “I was... six, I think. Car accident. I don't remember, honestly. Dad felt pretty rotten for years. But I got over it a long time ago.”

“Hnn. That's rough for any pup.” He pushed the food on his plate around with his fork. He was hungry, but the thought of food made him queasy. 

“You?” Fox turned to him, slurping the thin, watery soup.

“Same... kinda,” Wolf sighed. “Pilot training around the shipyards of Venom, pushed a busted Razor Nine to mach-two. It was more than it could handle, cockpit windows imploded, took my eye with it.”

Fox whistled.

“Yeah.”

“When d'you get the implant?” Fox emptied the bowl and moved on to the chewy roll.

“Couple years ago. Andross thought it would give me an edge...” Wolf growled at the memory. He'd beaten Venom's best, and most of the Cornerian Army, too, with his one good eye. Andross' insistence always chaffed him. The insane warlord was no longer an issue, but Wolf had held on to the implant, figuring he could rip it out of his head whenever he wanted. He was already growing used to seeing without it again.

“Screw that guy,” Fox said through a mouthful of bread.

“Yeah, screw him,” Wolf laughed, then groaned with pain. His ribs were still healing. He'd managed to stand up for the first time in weeks the day before, and he was itching to try again. To his great displeasure, Fox had been attending his own PT session in the same room, and burst into applause when Wolf was able to make himself vertical. The ex-pirate embarrassed the attending nurses with the string of profanity launched in Fox's direction. Fox only laughed.

“A Razor Nine, huh?” Fox continued. “Never got a chance to try one of those things. They were banned by the time I got the academy.” 

“Yeah, there was a damn good reason they were banned,” Wolf guffawed. “Designed by a space-racer who wanted nothin' but power, everything else be damned. Those things were monsters, nothing but a rocket thruster in a kite frame and a stick for handling.”

“Wow,” Fox said. “Bet the speed was incredible, though.”

“Yeah, incredible...” Wolf suppressed a shudder. He hated the dangerous, thoughtless engineering of fighters like the Razor Nine, and pined again to sit in his beloved Wolfen. 

“Sorry you lost your eye,” Fox said suddenly.

Wolf blinked, caught off-guard. “ Thanks.”

“You gonna put the implant back in?”

“Dunno,” Wolf replied earnestly. “Hell of a lot of trouble just to see a few extra blips on a screen.”

“I don't intend to treat you as less of a threat, O'Donnell,” Fox intimated, eyes narrowed at the wolf.

“Good idea, McCloud,” Wolf sneered, trying to ignore the odd swell in his chest at the compliment.


	7. Chapter 7

Fox woke up in the wee hours. Odd, considering the medicinal cocktail he was given for his still-recovering limbs, but the lower dosage didn't quite knock him out, he supposed. He stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to the steady hum of the monitoring equipment next to his bed, hoping the white noise would help him drift back to sleep.

After a while with no sleep in sight, he pushed himself to his side, eyes blearily wandering over the rest of the room. The tiny glow of equipment lights, scattered like stars against the dark of the room, made for a soothing visual. His gaze rested on the snoring figure in the other bed.

Illuminated by the clock on stand next to him, Wolf breathed softly into his pillow, an ear twitching every once in a while. Fox blinked. The mercenary's typical scowl was gone, replaced with the serenity of unconsciousness. His thick, white eyebrows unfurrowed, his lips uncurled from his usual sneer, the thick white mane lay tangled on his pillow. 

He didn't seem all that intimidating like this, Fox thought. Not all that bad looking, either. He idly wondered what was under his eye patch. Was there a little bit of eye left, or had it all fused together by now? He shuddered a little at the gross and invasive thought. Probably won't ask him that one. Was he as angry and brash when he was young, or was that learned during his pirate years? Not that he was particularly 'old', no matter how Fox teased him. What did he look like when he was happy? Not the dirty, barking laugh at some rotten joke, but really, genuinely happy? What was his smile like?

Fox realized he was still staring at him. He shifted to roll to his other side, ears growing warm. He suddenly saw something out of the corner of his eye. A small movement, something pink, just for a moment. He turned back, staring hard at Wolf's muzzle.

His patience was rewarded by a lazy little tongue darting out from between Wolf's lips, licking the air as the ex-pirate snored on. Every few moments, he'd do it again, his tongue curling innocently back into his mouth each time. Fox bit his lip to keep from giggling. Any remaining image of Wolf as a cutthroat badass was shattered, replaced forever in Fox's mind with a eye-patched grouch who gave puppy licks in his sleep.

He flopped to his back, unable to wipe the grin from his face, fading into sleep some time later.


	8. Chapter 8

“Doc gave me another six weeks here,” Wolf grumbled several days later. “If I don't die of boredom first.”

“I think they gave me the same estimate, Fox commented. He leaned over and grabbed the chart hanging by his bed, flipping it open. “Yep. Thought so.”

“Great, another month ad a half cooped up with the likes of you, Wolf added with a grin.

“You've been in worse company.”

“Gods, you don't know the half of it!” Wolf groaned, rolling his eye. Powalski is a psychopath, sure, but he leaves his crap lying around everywhere! We had to program a drone specifically to pick up after him!”

“That's funny, Falco does the same thing,” Fox replied. “Except we usually just push his stuff out the airlock.”

Wolf howled with laughter, holding his ribs.

“I'll have to try that next time, the risk of getting stabbed might be work it,” he chuckled. “What's it like living with that bird, anyway? We don't get a lot of his type around Venom.”

“Falco's alright,” Fox shrugged. “Great pilot, good with a pistol. Just a little too cocky sometimes.”

“Doesn't sound like anyone I know,” Wolf smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don't sass me, O'Donnell,” Fox threatened, raising a finger.

“I'll do all the sassing I want!” he barked back. “About all I can do at the moment...”

“Speaking of sass,” fox ventured, “Is Panther always so... pleasant?”

Wolf shrugged this time. 

“Til he gets mad. He can get pretty hot under the collar. Krystal's the only one who can talk any sense into him when he gets like that.”

“Yeah, she's good at that, Fox agreed, looking away.

“He's a real pushover when she's around,” Wolf continued. “Reminds me of an old boyfriend of mine.”

Fox's ear flicked in curiosity. “Yeah?”

“Old news,” Wolf waved it off. “You got anyone new you're sweet on, pup?”

“'Sweet on'? What are you, eighty?”

“Shut up, McCloud.”

“Whatever,” Fox laughed. “No, I don't. Not much time... or opportunity, out in space.” 

“Tell me about it,” Wolf sighed.

They sat in contemplative silence for a moment.

“What the hell is Slippy, anyway?” Wolf pondered aloud.

“He's a...toad? Frog?” Fox rubbed his chin. “To tell the truth, I'm not certain.”

“He's like a lizard, but not.”

“Yeah that's... Do you not know what an amphibian is?”

Wolf stared blankly.

“Are they like... fat lizards?”

Fox began to say something, but paused.

“Actually, that's a fair assessment.”

“Knew it.”

“You're an ass, O'Donnell,” Fox chuckled.

“You're a real gem yourself,” Wolf fired back.

“Yeah yeah,” Fox yawned, settling on his pillow. “Y'know, I kinda wish we'd been shot to pieces ages ago.”

“Don't go soft on me, pup,” Wolf warned. “Once I'm in the air, everything's fair game. I will not hesitate to tan your hide.”

“Soft? Don't you mean sweet on you, old man?” Fox taunted.

“Don't start with me, McCloud.”

“It were ninety year ago if it were a day, back in the autumn of aught-four,” Fox blathered on, affecting a 'rickety old man' voice.

“I will tear your tail off and wear it like a belt!”

“Oh fine, you drama queen,” Fox relented, and was subsequently hit by a pillow. He laughed and fluffed it up, setting it under his heard as he pulled the blanket up. “Mine now.”

Wolf sighed and rolled his eye again. He tapped the nurse call button to retrieve another rather than yell at the fox any more.


	9. Chapter 9

Wolf snapped his eye open. The sounds of explosions and the feel of heat on his fur woke him up again. It had happened every few nights for weeks. Annoying, he thought. He shut his eye again.

Try as he might, he still couldn't remember the crash. Each time he tried to pierce the fog, to no avail. Every now and again, he would remember a snippet, another little detail. His radar showed two objects within close range, one incoming fast. Panther's voice shouting over his comms. And something else, a fleeting thought that horrified him, just before everything turned black, but he could not pull it out of the haze...

Fox was snoring. Quiet, but steady. He only did that when he laid on his back, Wolf remembered. He had been cooped up with his rival so long he'd figured out his sleep patterns. 

Silly whelp, he thought. Try as he might, he couldn't summon the contempt for Fox he normally reserved for him. McCloud was too mouthy, too fast, too nimble for his own good, but he was an amazing pilot. He always seemed to have a handle on things, despite his eagerness to jump into danger. Silly, brave whelp, Wolf thought.

He shut his eye, trying to get back to sleep, pushing away his thoughts.

The snoring again. Soon it overpowered the hum of the equipment and the occasional whirr of a monitor drone as it rolled down the hall on its assigned route. It was all he could hear. Wolf grit his teeth and looked over at Fox, who still lay on his back, snoring blissfully.

He rolled his eye, wishing he could get up and shake him awake. Wait a moment- he could actually do that now. He had been able to take some short walks around on his own, building his dexterity again, and could walk a mile or two before he got tired. Shouldn't be too tough to climb out of bed for a minute, he thought.

Gently, he pushed himself up and into a sitting position, rolling his ankles and flexing his toes, getting ready to put weight them. He set his paws on the cool linoleum and carefully pushed himself vertical. He stood there for a minute, waiting for the light dizziness of sleep to subside, before he took a few cautious steps towards the sleeping Fox.

He stood by the bed, hand hovering over the pilot's shoulder. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the sawing wheeze of his snore squeaking out of him. He could just shake the pup, tell him to shut up. He sighed inwardly. He'd have to hear some smart ass remark, probably get called 'gramps' again. He'd rather not deal with it at this hour. 

No need to wake him. Skinny pup didn't look like he weighed all that much, he decided.

As quietly as he could, Wolf slid his hands between Fox's back and the thin bed, getting a nice leverage before gently pushing him to his side, ignoring the dull pain from his injured arm. Fox hardly moved, his fluffy tail matted to the bed. He snorted and coughed, and for a moment Wolf thought he might have woken him up anyway. A second later, Fox resumed an even, steady breath, still asleep, and no longer snoring.

Satisfied, Wolf got back into bed and pulled the sheet to his chin. He smiled, enjoying the renewed silence of the dark room. Eventually he drifted off the gentle sound of Fox softly breathing.


	10. Chapter 10

Wolf must have slipped out while he was in the cafeteria, Fox thought. He returned to the room with a bag of crisps and an extra gelatin cup, intent on offering some to Wolf and turning on some music to enjoy their last night stuck together in the hospital.

It never came too pass, however. An hour or two went by with no sign of the other mercenary. With a shrug, Fox finished the snacks himself, laying back in bed and tapping his boot to the music. With some disappointment, he figured maybe Wolf had left early, ditching the hospital as soon as Panther had returned with his rebuilt Wolfen.

He quickly fell into an light nap. It was easier for him to do after his extended hospital stay. He was awakened by a boot knocking the side of his bed, and he looked up with sleepy eyes at Wolf standing over him with a triumphant look.

“Thought you had already blown this place, O'Donnell,” he said, sitting up.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” he replied with a grin. “Last night locked up here, right? Why not celebrate?” Wolf pulled aside the jacket in his hand to reveal a six-pack of glistening brown bottles. “Had Panther sneak on a little contraband.”

“Whoa, nice!” Fox smiled back. “But uh, they don't allow that stuff in the rooms...”

“Yeah, I know, buncha bastards,” Wolf barked. “But I figured we can go up on the observation deck. Nobody up there this time of night, plus the stars'll look kinda nice.”

“Okay, sounds great,” Fox agreed. “One small problem: how do we get up there without getting caught with the goods?”

“Already ahead of you, pup,” Wolf winked and nodded at the disused wheelchair in the corner of the room.

They took a circular route towards the observation deck, avoiding as many eyes as possible. Wolf had figured out the locations of all the nurse stations on his frequent, restless walks around the hospital halls. He snaked around them, pushing Fox along at a casual clip. The six-pack sat in Fox's lap, hidden beneath a thin hospital blanket. 

They were stopped only once, a level below the observation deck. A doctor taking a shortcut between the east wing of the station and the cafeteria eyed them as they passed, turning to them. 

“Do you need help finding your rooms?” the skinny lion asked, his dark mane tied back in a messy ponytail. 

“Ah, no,” Wolf answered quickly. “This one just needed a little fresh air is all.” He tousled the short, spiky hair between Fox's ears as he flashed a bright, reassuring grin. “I'm taking him back right now.”

The doctor blinked down at Fox, who only responded with a sleepy smile.

“Well, alright,” the doctor acquiesced after a moment. “The nurse station is down the corner, if you need one.”

“Thanks, doc!” Wolf said, and continued down the hall, pushing Fox into the lift.

“Nice save,” Fox added as they heard the lift doors close behind them. “Also, never do that again.”

“What?” Wolf smirked. “This?” put his fingers through Fox's hair again, tousling it like an errant pup.

“Yes, that,” Fox growled, ears warm as he slapped at Wolf's paw. “Ass...” he muttered.

Wolf laughed.

They found the observation deck a few minutes later, abandoned at this time of day. A array of chairs, couches, and small tables set before the enormous, circular windows above. The golden surface of Titania's western hemisphere glowed above them, wispy cloud swirling in its atmosphere as the station made it slow rotation. The stars beyond glimmered in the black velvet of space, all silent except for the low hum of the ships' rotation. 

Parking Fox's wheelchair next to one of the tables, Wolf pulled up a chair and sat the six back between them, popping open two bottles. Wolf held his bottle to the side with a wry grin. Fox grinned back, and wordlessly clinked his to it.

They talked for hours as they drank, watching the stars roll by. About what a miserable planet Titania was (“Some of the dunes are pretty,” Fox offered.), about more preferred spots (“Love surfin' the ice rings on that one moon, y'know, the purple one,” Wolf lamented.), about the mundane things (“Cherry or strawberry flavored?” “Fool, any pilot worth his salt knows lemon is where it's at!” “Gross.”), about less mundane things.

“I don't bring it up with the rest of my team... or anyone for that matter,” Fox sighed. “But I think about my parents every day. I went to all the sessions and everything, but...” he trailed off, tracing a finger through the sweat on his bottle.

“Time doesn't heal anyone, pup,” Wolf said, his tone gentle as he could. “just helps you get used to feelin' the pain.”

“Hnn...” Fox took another swig, finishing his bottle. 

“I wish I'd met him, to tell you the truth, McCloud,” Wolf admitted. “Hell of a pilot. Figure me 'n him would've got along real well... in a different world.”

“Yeah,” Fox nodded. A kinder world, he thought. He wondered what Wolf's idea of a kinder world was like. He looked over at the other mercenary, the gray fur illuminated by the starlight. “Is there anyone you miss, Wolf?”

He was silent for a long moment. 

“Yeah.” 

Wolf said no more, keeping his eyes on the stars. 

They fell into a comfortable silence then, watching the edge of Titania sink below the sill of the observation window. Fox set his bottle in an empty slot of the six-pack, and picked up the last two. He popped one open and offered the other to Wolf, who held up his current beer to indicate he wasn't finished yet. Fox set it with bottle opener on the table next to him. He took a deep pull from the bottle.

“Wolf,” he started, keeping his eyes on the stars. “I lied to you.” 

Wolf blinked and turned slowly, narrowing his eye.

“What?”

“You don't remember the impact,” Fox continued. “Or what happened before, do you?”

Wolf shook his head. “No, still can't. It's all just a fog.”

“We caught the Andross missile on radar at the same time, just as it left the atmosphere. We were in low orbit- but I was lower. It locked onto me, I couldn't shake it. The Arwing wasn't pulling fast enough. You, though,” Fox turned to face him. “You were in the clear, well out of its targeting range. You pulled a one-eighty and put yourself between the missile and me. You took most of the blast, lessened the impact on us both.”

Wolf stared, unblinking as the pieces of his memory began falling into place one by one at Fox's recounting.

“You saved my life, Wolf, and it nearly cost yours.”

Wolf sat back in the chair, remembering. He'd acted on instinct. The pup was as good as dead. In a few seconds, his Arwing would've been a layer of space dust in orbit around Titania. Something cold and sudden had run through him, and he moved with lightning reflexes, spurring his Wolfen on and meeting the missile head-on before it could touch the other ship. His stomach lurched at the memory. Not the terrific heat, the deafening screech of shorn metal, or the howl of cold, merciless space rushing in to greet him, but a singular thought, something he couldn't bear to see made real.

A galaxy without Fox McCloud.

A paw was placed on his forearm. 

“I don't know why you did that,” Fox was still talking, voice low. “But thank you. I owe you my life, Wolf.” 

Wolf looked down at the paw, then up at its owner, the green pools of Fox's eyes partly hidden in the shadows cast in starlight. He tried to ignore the quivering in his gut, the uptick of his heartbeat. The thought snuck back into his mind, the idea that the galaxy had nearly lost Fox McCloud that day, and a sense of relief washed over him, knowing that it hadn't come to pass.

He took a long pull from his bottle, draining it. 

“Don't mention it, pup,” he said coolly.

They fell back into silence, neither sure what to say or feel. After a while, Wolf noticed Fox pointing into the dark sky. He followed the gesture to a tiny bluish point far out among the stars.

“I never realized you could see Corneria from here.”

“Huh,” Wolf blinked. “Me neither.”

They crept back to their room a few hours later, discreetly disposing of the bottles in the disposal next to the cafeteria and sneaking past the lone yawning nurse at the station. They began to giggle like schoolboys, both a little tipsy, giddy from their secret adventure.

“Goodnight,Wolf,” Fox sighed as the other pilot helped him into bed.

“'Night, McCloud,” Wolf returned, flopping into his own bed, and was soon snoring. “And thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

Fox motioned for the lights to dim, he dozed off quickly, unable to remember a more peaceful sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

He stirred to wakefulness several hours later. He blinked and rolled over, expecting Wolf to still lay passed out in the neighboring bed. Instead it stood empty, the sheets missing, all signs of Wolf's presence gone. He was suddenly aware of how large and empty the room was.

Something green sat on the table next to his bed. A gelatin cup, condensation clinging to its clear plastic packaging. He lifted it, and found a note placed beneath the cup.

_Thanks for the laughs, pup_

He ate the gelatin slowly, gazing at the note in his lap. A few minutes later, the nurse entered, holding his discharge paperwork.

“Good morning, Mr. McCloud,” she said cheerfully. “Your friend left a little earlier. Said the snack was just for you.”

“I see,” Fox nodded. He'd slept so soundly, he hadn't heard Wolf depart. 

“Feeling rested, then?” She shuffled the papers, placing the stack and a pen at the foot of his bed. “I know you were cleared already, but requested an additional few weeks. Needed a little more time out of the cockpit, huh?”

“Yeah,” Fox replied, looking at the empty cup. “Something like that.”

“Understandable,” she nodded. “Are you ready to be discharged, or do you need more time?”

Fox's ear twitched. “No, I'm ready to leave. Is Falco here?” 

“Mr. Lombardi's waiting in the hangar. I'll let him know you're good to go,” the nurse smiled brightly. “Just sign those and give them to the receptionist at the station down the hall. Have a nice day, Mr. McCloud.” She turned and left the door open on her way out.

“Yeah, thanks.” 

He strapped his boots on and slipped his jacket around his shoulders. He signed the papers, and took one last look at the sterile, white hospital room before leaving.

He was quiet on the flight home, listening to Falco catch him up on what he and the rest of Team Star Fox had been up to. Fox nodded and laughed appropriately, but his mind was elsewhere. Back on the Great Fox, he was welcomed warmly by his teammates, enduring some good-natured ribbing, and asked if O'Donnell had given him any trouble.

Fox hesitated before giving a shrug. “Nothing I couldn't handle,” he said with a smirk as he headed for his room.

He tossed his things carelessly on the bed, sitting down with a sigh. He placed the note in the drawer of his nightstand before laying back on the bed.

He would think of it, and Wolf, for a long time afterward.


End file.
